


From Within the Woods

by MsJody13



Series: Betwixt and Between [6]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: M/M, The Forest AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26159917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsJody13/pseuds/MsJody13
Summary: Events taking place in The Forest AU presented in no particular order. Ratings and warnings may change.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Paz Vizla, Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV) & Paz Vizsla, Din Djarin/Paz Vizla, Din Djarin/Paz Vizsla, The Mandalorian/Paz Vizla
Series: Betwixt and Between [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1580050
Comments: 30
Kudos: 89





	1. Allies and Assassins

**Author's Note:**

> cyar'ika: sweetheart/darling/beloved  
> Ori'ramikad: Mandalorian elite special forces
> 
> Enjoy!

The rock-hewn path is narrow, forcing them to walk single-file, the entirety of Din's field of vision occupied by the broad expanse of Paz's beskar-clad back. Rough, towering walls of red and beige banded stone rise far above, blocking most of the early morning light. The planet is much too reminiscent of Arvala-7 for the bounty hunter's liking. He spares a glance down at the child nestled in the carrier strapped to his chest and pulls his cloak protectively over the dozing green babe.

"Not thrilled about bringing the kid," Din said, his jaw clenching in irritation. His hackles raised as soon as they entered the restrictive space, the tension of being on high alert for the better part of an hour burying deep and painful between his shoulder blades. Forefront of his awareness is an electric buzz, more sensation than sound, rising from the gritty, sandy earth. It undulates and writhes, keeping pace at his heel and just ahead of each advancing footfall.

Maneuvering his considerable bulk within the confines of corridor, Paz faces him and brings their foreheads together with a soft clink.

"Tust me, cyar'ika, all is as it should be here." He rests a large gloved hand atop the quietly snoring bundle. "We are safe." 

They press forward, arriving shortly thereafter, just as the child begins to stir. The passageway ends, opening to a small sunlit courtyard boxed in by massive, rugged outcroppings of striped rock and paved with smooth, interlocking cobblestone. Three recessed false doors are carved into the wall opposite the trio, each large enough to accommodate a twice-sized taun-taun. The wide lentils and jambs decorated in raised relief depict humanoid and animal forms locked in struggle, the images too worn with age to discern species or culture.

The Mandalorians step forward, unintentionally in unison, the baby choosing that moment to make it known he is fully awake. With a high-pitched joyous trill the little one nearly clambers out of his father's grasp.

"Whoa! Where do you think you're going, womp rat?" With the efficiency and speed of someone who has experienced this same exact situation more times than can be counted, Din plants the youngling back in the carrier and straps him in. Big, sad eyes and crestfallen ears notwithstanding.

"He must sense them. Don't draw your weapon, Djarin. They're allies."

Din looks up to see the center false door is now open.

Huh.

Paz moves through the entryway without hesitation, his burly form promptly swallowed by the shadows. Din approaches with more caution, the thrum of energy increasing with each step, causing the hair on his arms to stand on end. The child is making impatient grunts, urging him on.

He steps into the darkness.

The chamber within is much larger than he expected. The darkness seen from outside being quite deceptive as the walls glow with milky, metallic light, providing more than enough illumination to see. From the smooth, tiled floor rise low, blocky benches of stone creating a ring of seats in the center of the space and surrounding a deep, blackened fire pit. The kid is no longer fussing, instead looking in all directions with ears perked high and a beaming, toothy grin. 

"So where are these allies? The ones who opened the door?"

"They didn't open the door." Paz places his palm on the nearest wall. "They _are_ the doors."

He steps back as the wall under his touch disintegrates into iridescent particles, spilling onto the floor in a cascade of shimmering pink-gold sand. The baby erupts into a fit of gleeful laughter.

The sparkling mound churns, pulsing with the faint sound of a heartbeat. It takes form, coalesces, rising up on four long, lean limbs, its sleek body covered in reflective, shifting scales. Two immense bronze-colored eyes regard Din from its shifting features, the orbs coming to settle between a horned forehead and a slender, square muzzle. The creature reclines on its haunches -- even sitting it reaches to Paz's shoulders-- and yawns. 

An awestruck Din barely registers the sound of others emerging to his left and right. When his befuddled brain finally engages he sees two more fully formed entities and numerous others who have elected, it seems, to stay mostly hidden. He is reminded of the shifting dunes on Tatooine as spector-like heads emerge from the walls in waves. Some appear to be more curious than others, hesitating, giving him the once-over before silently disappearing. He locks eyes with some, recognizing immediately that these are not simple beasts or mindless guard dogs, but sentient, intelligent (and most likely dangerous) beings.

Taking full advantage of his father's distraction, the little one worms his way out of the carrier and drops silently to the floor. With a throaty squeal he fearlessly trundles over to the sentry at Paz's side. It lowers its svelte body to the floor and moving like molten metal it flows toward the child, the two meeting eye-to-eye. 

Din stiffens. "I don't think --"

"It will be fine." Paz approaches him, slides his arm around the shorter man's shoulders, feeling him relax just a bit. "Come, there are supplies to gather."

Paz guides him to the far end of the room, away from the excited toddler who is happily giggle-babbling at the three Allies, all of whom seem completely enraptured by the one-sided conversation. Upon their approach the wall parts as if made from heavy drapery, revealing a large metal foot locker and nearly two dozen shelved bins. Din inspects the contents of the nearest containers finding dried rations, medical supplies, and small tools. 

"What is this place?"

Paz lifts the creaky lid of the footlocker and kneels, sorting through its contents while speaking. "It's an Ori'ramikad high-risk operations cache. Assignments, such as munitions acquisitions, assassinations, large volume beskar reclamation and the like, could take years to complete. During that time contacting the Covert is not an option and drawing unwanted attention by restocking at the wrong outpost could jeopardize multiple missions. I have sole access to three locations of which this is the largest and the only one guarded. I will show you the whereabouts of the other two on the starcharts when we return to the ship."

Paz tosses Din a sizable bag of credits from the locker. He catches it, bounces it in his palm, testing the weight. It's _a lot_ of money. 

"I know what you're thinking, Djarin, and there's no cause to feel guilty. We are protecting a foundling, one with incredible powers and who is hunted by the Imps for reasons we know not why. The Armorer has given her blessing. We may take what we need."

The large warrior rises slowly, steps into the other's space and laces their fingers together. 

"The Allies now know you and the child and will recognize you both, always. In the event something happens to me, you can come here and rest, restock. Be safe." His words are spoken softly, earnestly, with an intimacy Din is not prepared for.

The sack of credits hits the ground as Din grabs the edge of Paz's cuirass at the shoulders and pulls forcefully, their bodies colliding with a metallic thunk. Paz responds in kind, wrapping his thick arms around Din's trim waist, pressing him in closer, his need for physical contact matching that of the younger Mandalorian. Resting his helmet against Paz's breastplate, Din swallows thickly, his eyes beginning to prickle and throat tight with emotion.

They stand together, heartbeats synced and swaying ever so slightly. Din breaks the silence, speaking barely above a whisper as his voice cracks. His words simple and sincere.

"Thank you."

\--fin


	2. Rustle & Crunch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Autumn is Din's favorite time of year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love autumn and have decided Din does too.
> 
> buir = father/mother  
> verd'ika = little soldier

When Din wakes he can sense they have landed, though he is uncertain as to exactly where. From the cockpit of the Starhunter he surveys the planet Paz chose for their next stop and, to his delight, it's a planet in the throes of autumn.

The ship rests in a clearing ringed with tall, full deciduous trees bearing vibrant foliage in fiery hues of red, orange and yellow. Beyond the trees rolling hills are a dappled, blazing mosaic crafted from the same palette of harvesttime colors. Movement catches his attention off to the right, just enough of Paz's blue armor peeking out between the branches for Din to recognize the form as that of his lover. 

Moving outside, he stops on the ramp mid-descent and turns the helmet's air filtration off. Pulling as much air into his lungs as they will accommodate, smelling the earthy scent of early-season decay, he closes his eyes and succumbs to the comforting embrace of olfactory memory.

Din has little to no recollection of his life prior to _that_ day. A hazy, fleeting moment of his father's voice or his mother's laugh is all that remains of his before-life, and those flashes of What Once Was are always accompanied by a pang of sorrow. This, however, this season of crisp, rustling leaves, chilly mornings, and bright fires brings with it nothing but pure....contentment. The events which are the source of the warmth now blooming in his chest are unknown to him, buried in the past by trauma and loss. He is no longer troubled by that particular mystery.

Following the sound of the little one's laughter, Din walks slowly toward his foundling and Paz, enjoying the sound of leaves crunching beneath his boots. (And just maybe kicking some along way.)

He finds Paz holding the kid, standing knee-deep in an absolute mountain of leaves. Din can't help but chuff at the sight. 

"Ah-ha! Your buir is finally awake and has deemed us worthy of his presence." The warrior's voice is loud and playful. "Let us take a moment to bask in our good fortune, verd'ika." He touches foreheads with the child, holding the gesture for longer than necessary with over-dramatic silence.

Then, wordlessly, he chucks the kid into the leaves.

"The fuck, Paz?" Din tries to sound irritated but the whole laugh-talking thing he's doing kind of spoils the illusion.

A barely discernible lump of giggling green baby flounders in the dried foliage. One tiny clawed foot breaks the surface with a rustle and crunch, waving in the air like a third magic hand.

"Well, seems my job here is done." Paz turns, walking toward the treeline. "I will leave you to dig your son out while I catch our dinner from the lake. The only living creatures on the entire planet are fish and fowl, so you can relax a bit." The large Mandalorian stops, calling over his shoulder. "Then I can help you relax _even more_ later tonight."

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading 'til the end. It means a lot to me.
> 
> Been catching up on Mando fics and I am thrilled to see more from my fave authors and plenty of content from new folks too. I feel really fortunate to have so many talented writers in this fandom. Can't wait to see what comes out of the new season!!

**Author's Note:**

> Yeahhhhh...it's been awhile. 
> 
> Summer has been rough for me as it has for so many others. I hope today finds you well. I have some disjointed Forest scenes and plot bunnies stuck in my head that I thought I'd share.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading. It means the world to me.
> 
> PS  
> Does anyone else feel like they use first names too much while writing....?


End file.
